Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered
by JennyLD
Summary: Does anything in Lex's life ever go according to plan?


**Disclaimer:** Smallville stole my soul from Doctor Who. Unfortunately, it didn't come with any rights of ownership.  
**Author's Note:** Written for the Naughty Seductions Chlex By Request thread. I was evil and requested a shag or die fic, Cypanache retaliated and made me write fluff. It's all her fault. (But then she kindly beta'd, so I can't possibly stay mad at her anymore.)

* * *

_"So will you help me?"_

_"Whatever you need, Chloe, the full extent of my resources will be at your disposal."_

Famous last words? More like exceedingly shortsighted and foolish ones.

Leave it to Chloe to come up with something so mind-blowingly ludicrous it can only be described as inane. And yet, somehow, still manage to wrap it up in a perfectly reasonable and convincing package.

Leave it to Lex to be beguiled into helping her.

It's the little things, the minor irritations of her elaborate scheme that begin to endear her to him. The meticulous planning and enthusiastic execution of every last detail. The unwarranted phone calls and visits at all hours of the day to discuss strategy with all due seriousness.

She treats it like it's a business venture, not some sophomoric attempt to attract the attention of a nameless, faceless boy who can't see what's staring him right in the face.

Corporate takeovers were never this much work.

"Don't forget to have them sent--"

"At precisely two o'clock," he interrupts her, eyes skimming the pad of legal paper he's taken to having always at the ready, "At the Daily Planet. A dozen long-stemmed red roses, in a crystal vase, with a smattering of Baby's Breath. Really, Chloe, can you possibly be more clichéd?"

The barb doesn't quite hit the mark. Either that, or she's so high on infatuation (at least it isn't Clark this time), that she lets it roll right off her. "Oh, and make sure they address it from 'your secret admirer'."

This arrangement is only getting more preposterous as time wears on.

"I thought I was supposed to be your boyfriend. Not some hormone riddled science nerd making trite proclamations of love with daddy's credit card."

He can hear her muffled shriek of frustration on the other end of the line; the one that she tries, and fails, to suppress. A reaction that more than makes up for his previous failure in provoking her.

"You're very infuriating, you know that?"

"What else would you expect when dealing with a Luthor?"

"A little cooperation would be nice. It might make this, you know, _simpler_."

And that's the kicker, isn't it? Because even doing a seemingly innocent favor for a friend ends up more complicated than it has any right to be.

"I can assure you, Chloe, nothing in my life is ever simple."

* * *

Eventually he has to admit, if not out loud, then at least to himself, that she's growing on him. That all her planning and scheming has succeeded in one respect, even if it's not the result she was aiming for.

Even if the attention she's attracted isn't exactly from the suitor she was hoping for.

"Remember, we're in love, not about to get married. You do know the difference, right?"

Her good-natured teasing is very nearly lost on him, but he fights the haze of unease that's been plaguing him since this whole thing started and manages to smile appropriately before arousing her suspicions. "I'm pretty sure I'll be able to act the part to your specifications."

Except that, is it really an act when his feelings for her are changing? Into what, he's not entirely sure yet, but it's a marked difference from the cautious regard he's held her in since the day they first met.

"Okay then, ready to bring me to the ball, Prince Charming?"

"Well, when you put it that way..." Their arms link together in a way that he tries to convince himself doesn't remind him of the flawless melding of instruments in a concerto, a _pièce de résistance_.

They enter the Talon like that; side-by-side, her leg brushing against his with every step, the warmth of her body dispersing the very last of his resolve.

Lately, it's getting harder and harder to maintain that pretense.

* * *

Everything feels different tonight. _She_ feels different.

Instead of her typical vivacious temperament, she's quiet and contemplative, almost subdued. After six weeks of her constantly effervescent personality, it's disconcerting to say the least.

Especially when, despite all of his attempts, he can't quite figure her out.

If there's one thing Lex has always prided himself on, it's his ability to read people, to know what they're thinking, what their deepest desires are, even if they haven't a clue themselves. It's what has made him the business man he is today.

And it's never failed him before, not until now.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm just a little tired is all." And she looks it, but for some indefinable reason he knows she isn't being completely honest.

"Chloe?"

The sound of shushing behind them brings a twinkle to her eyes, a bit of the spark he's so used to seeing. "Careful, Lex, I think you're making the natives restless."

He lets it drop. Because she isn't going to give him a straight answer. Because the movie is about to begin, and as overly sentimental as it might be, he happens to actually _like_ Gone with the Wind.

When this whole thing first started, the romantic overtures felt foreign, almost alien to him. Holding hands and sappy love letters were never his style, mutual betrayals and botched murder attempts were. But somewhere between then and now things changed, and sprawled out on a blanket in an open field watching a movie on a large sheet, with dozens of other young lovers surrounding them, it no longer feels artificial.

It feels more natural than it has any right to be.

* * *

It's the kiss that's the _coup de grâce_.

It's also the first time they've really touched each other since this whole debacle began.

Standing outside the Daily Planet, work week drones milling past, Lex wonders where _he_ is. Where this unknown rival might be hidden, with front row seats to whatever contrivance Chloe has in mind this time.

Then none of it really matters because she's taking his face between her palms and kissing him.

He knows it should be awkward--her pining for someone else, him pining for her--but it's not. There's no fumbling, no uncertainties; just him and her and their lips pressed together in a kiss. It's her hands settling on his chest and his griping her arms, holding her in place. It's tentative, but not timid. And it feels so right.

Maybe sometimes his life can be simple after all.

When they finally pull away, breathless from intensity, she's smiling up at him and something in her eyes--something devious and oh so Chloe--gives him pause. And suddenly, it's all so very clear.

"There isn't really someone else, Chloe, is there?"

"No, there isn't." Surprisingly, she doesn't look the least bit guilty, but then again, she's always taken what she wanted from him without remorse.

"So this was just a ruse to get me to fall for you?"

"Not _exactly_." He'd be angry but for the lilt to her voice--two parts teasing, one part something else entirely. "There was someone. And I did want to make him jealous but..."

"But what?"

She doesn't answer at first. Just smiles up at him in that way that reaches her eyes and lights up her face. It's the first thing he ever noticed about her, the one thing that has always stuck with him, and all of a sudden he's taking a stroll down memory lane, remembering all the times he's experienced that smile before. All the times (as few and far between as they may be) that she sent one of them careening in his direction.

It leaves him feeling a little lightheaded.

Then she's leaning towards him, standing on tiptoes to brush her lips against his ear, whispering on a breath,

"I found a better offer."


End file.
